


I Hold the Lock, You Hold the Key

by Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth



Series: un conte de fée de JeanMarmin [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coma, Fairy Tales, Hospitals, I'm just really bad with descriptions, M/M, No this isn't a stalker fic, Slow Burn, or some weird variant of a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-09-19 12:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17001936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth/pseuds/Silver_Shortage_in_Markarth
Summary: Is it possible to meet the love of your life, without the love of your life meeting you?Armin Arlert is about to find out.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK MORE JEARMIN
> 
> YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

"Excuse me." 

Behind him, Armin could hear the sounds that were generally associated with a busy hospital; people talking in the waiting room, announcing things over the intercom, and phones ringing were but a few of what made the makeshift symphony. He tried to ignore all of it as he stood at the receptionist's desk, hoping to get some room info. 

The nurse on shift didn't notice him; perhaps Armin was too quiet, or his winter gear muffled his voice too much. He tried again, this time a little louder.

"Excuse me!" This time, the nurse jolted to attention to face him. It took her a moment to calm herself down to ask what he needed of her. 

"Do you know where Eren Jaeger's room is? I'm here to see him...?" She still waited to see if he gave her any more information. "He was in a work-related incident the other day. Is he here?" The nurse, with sufficient info now, told him all he needed to know, and pointed him in the right direction. 

Armin made sure to give a quick thank you before going off to reach his destination. 

...

Given that he hadn't been to see Eren since before the accident, Armin felt really bad. He tried not to let his negative emotions get the better of him as he got to Eren's room. He knew he got the right one when he saw " _Jaeger, E._ " tacked up under the room's number. There was another name under his, but Armin didn't recognize it. 

Contrary to what he had said about his current state, Eren looked perfectly fine (if somewhat beat up) as he sat up in bed, with Mikasa sitting at his bedside. The both of them had their eyes practically glued to the hospital TV, which was playing that old Bond movie featuring George Lazenby. 

They at least muted it when they saw Armin coming in. 

"You look better than I thought, Eren," he said when he seated himself on the side Mikasa wasn't on. "I guess the incident at work hadn't been that bad?" 

"No, it was bad," Eren responded. "It's just that if it were a little bit worse, I'd be dead." 

The corner of Mikasa's mouth twitched a bit in a brief flash of humor, before turning serious again. "And thank goodness it didn't come to that." All three of them then proceeded to talk about what Armin had been doing in the time before he was able to come visit. While they all did, Armin's eyes kept straying over to the other bed in the room. 

In that bed, a young man with spiky brown hair lay motionless, his skin looking a bit pale. He was hooked up to a ventilator, as well as numerous other wires and machines. If Armin had to guess how long he'd been in that state, he'd probably say about a year or so. 

"Hey Eren," he said while pointing to him. "Who's that?" 

Eren looked over at the comatose patient, and then shrugged. "Beats me. He was like that when I got here. Personally, I think he looks like a horse." Armin decided not to further pursue that line of questioning. He did end up looking at the other name later when visiting hours were over. 

" _Kirstein, J._ ," he whispered to himself. Somehow, that name compelled him to do something. What exactly, he wasn't entirely sure. But he had the feeling he was going to see this Kirstein man again. 


	2. Chapter 2

**_-the next day-_ **

Getting around in a wheelchair was never really something he could get used to. At least in the hospital, he had some help with getting around. 

Marco kept his hands in his lap as Jean's mother pushed him forward towards Jean's room. Neither of them spoke much to each other here, despite being perfectly fine communicating back at the house. It just didn't seem right to, for some reason. He just kept quiet, as did she, while they went down the hall. 

Both of them were taken aback just a bit when they saw another person in Jean's room. 

"Oh...The doctor didn't mention anything to us about a new arrival in here," Miss Kirstein said upon laying eyes on Eren. 

Eren muted his movie (much to his frustration) to greet them. "Yeah, well, not for much longer. I'm supposed to be discharged sometime today." He looked over at Jean. "If it took you so long to come visit him, I don't know who to feel worse for." Then he took a good look at Marco. "Probably you since you're missing an eye." 

Neither of them were particularly amused by that line. To let him know this, Miss Kirstein grabbed hold of a curtain and pulled it out, separating the two patients. 

...

When Armin arrived to come pick Eren up (Mikasa was still in the car), he came in to see Doctor Hanji checking him thoroughly. 

"All right Mister Jaeger," she said to him in an uncharacteristically stern voice, "hopefully this'll teach you not to do...whatever it was that got you here in the first place." 

"You mean do backflips and accidentally fall down three flights of concrete stairs?" 

Hanji paused for a moment, looking at him before answering with a blunt "Yes." Then she continued checking him. Armin tried not to cringe as he imagined Eren doing such a thing; that wasn't really like him (probably one of his co-workers dared him to do that). 

Once the checkup was over, Eren jumped off the bed a little too quickly; he had to bite back a yelp of pain as he proceeded to leave the room, Doctor Hanji following behind him. He stood staring at the doorway, then moved to turn off the TV. He then heard rustling and movement behind him. 

"I think he's gone now," another man's voice said. 

"I hope so," a woman's voice replied. "I didn't really care much for how high he put the volume on." 

The curtain was drawn back, revealing two complete strangers standing next to Jean. Both of them looked as surprised as Armin, meeting like this. 

"You're not him," the young man in the wheelchair said, stating the obvious. Armin was a little bothered over seeing clear signs that he was missing his right eye. "I suppose that's a good thing, though." From there, the three introduced themselves, and introduced Jean properly to Armin. 

According to the two of them, Jean and Marco had been in a serious car accident last fall; to try and showcase the damage he'd suffered, Marco lifted up his eyelid to show where an eyeball once was. Miss Kirstein stated that he'd lost it when a piece of metal from the accident jammed into it. That got enough for Armin to flinch and cover his own eye.

"It sounds like you're lucky to be alive," he told him, "even if it means you're paraplegic and partly blind."

Marco smiled in a melancholy way. "Sometimes I don't feel lucky, though. Not when my best friend has been like this for over a year now." He looked over at Jean; though he was aware that no one usually moves in a coma, he could've sworn Jean's own expression faltered the tiniest bit.

...

Now, after leaving Jean's room, the three of them ended up in the hospital cafeteria; none of them were all that hungry, but they couldn't stay in the room much longer (due to visiting hours being over by then). Eren and Mikasa were also upset that Armin was going to stay behind and try to get better acquainted with his new friends. 

"I hope the two of you don't think me creepy," he said to them as he poked at a surprisingly fresh salad, "but would it be alright if I...visited Jean from time to time?" His request made Marco and Miss Kirstein pause for a moment, briefly looking at each other. Then they both looked back at Armin.

"It is a bit unorthodox," Jean's mother said, "but I don't see a problem with it."

She glanced over at Marco again, who was trying to open his milk carton one-handed. "Him, though...That's up to him, really. Anything that happens to Jean has to get approval from both of us. So I'm alright with it, but..." 

Jean's mother waited for Marco to get his milk carton open; by now, he was just stabbing a straw through any place on the top to make it go through. He looked up briefly to nod, before going back to shanking the carton with a now relatively beat-up looking straw. 

"Just let Doctor Hanji know beforehand." 


	3. Chapter 3

With Doctor Hanji's go-ahead, Armin was eager to return to the hospital to visit Jean. He knew it was weird, looking forward to talking with a man in a coma who'd never met him, but he was cool with it. At least Marco and Miss Kirstein knew he had no ill will in his actions. 

Now he was rummaging through his belongings, looking for any of his books that ended up getting covered (he didn't really have anywhere in his room for a proper bookshelf). When all he could find right away was a book of Grimm's fairy tales, he sighed in resignation and just shoved it into a bag he was carrying. 

"I don't know if Jean ever liked these kinds of stories," he said to himself as he started making his way out of the house, "but it isn't like he can tell me otherwise." 

Given that the house was empty (Eren had gone back to work, as did Mikasa to make sure he didn't pull any more idiotic stunts), Armin didn't have to worry about explaining where he was going. All he had to worry about was getting to the hospital at the agreed upon time (i.e. during visiting hours). 

...

Marco and Jean's mother were sitting outside Jean's room, trying to keep themselves busy until Armin arrived. Miss Kirstein had busied herself with some knitting needles (how she managed to convince security that she wasn't going to use them as weapons was a whole different story), while Marco held any yarn she was currently using. 

"Should I be concerned that you make an awful lot of stockings, around this time of year?" Marco asked her when he saw the pattern she was working on. 

Miss Kirstein shrugged without looking up at him. "Would you rather I make another hat? You know how terrible I am with those..." Glancing up at the original hat (she'd made it specifically for him) and seeing how wonky and oversized it was, Marco had to admit that she did kind of have a point. 

After a few more minutes of knitting (and chatting about trivial shit), the man of the hour arrived. 

...

The whole time from the house to the hospital, Armin had been psyching himself up for all this. Now that he was actually here, though, he felt as if he were on the verge of soiling himself out of nervousness. Attempting to hide it while pulling out his fairy tale book didn't really work. 

"You'd think I was about to give a speech on graduation day," he admitted to the other two as he took his seat next to Jean's bedside. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans didn't really do much good either (but he didn't want to ruin one of his perfectly good books, so he had to try). 

He did relax a bit when Jean's mother and Marco sat behind him; chances were that they, too, wanted to hear what glorious stories Armin had picked out. But first things first: 

"Hi there," Armin whispered to Jean. "You don't know me, but your mother and your friend here gave me permission to talk to you." Since his back was turned, Armin didn't notice Marco's face taking on a twinge of discomfort when he said the second part. "Um...My name's Armin, I'm twenty-three, and I work at a bookstore.

"I think...I think your mother said you were...twenty-six?" He looked over at her. "Is that right?" When she nodded, he went on. "Well, anyway. Is it all right if I read to you? I don't know if you were one to read when you were awake, but..." He cut himself off then, opening his book to the start of a random tale, and began to read. 

...

Much to Eren and Mikasa's surprise and confusion, Armin wasn't waiting for the two of them when they got home later. Normally, he'd be in his room or the living room. Searching in both rooms, though, brought up nothing; it were as though Armin had completely disappeared into thin air. 

"Was he going to see someone later today?" Eren inquired. 

"He didn't say anything if he did," Mikasa answered. 

There wasn't even a note left for the two of them; in his growing panic, Eren pulled out his phone and started dialing Armin's number. To his dismay, Armin ended up declining his call. He tried again, with the same result. When Eren tried a third time, it just went to voicemail:

" _Hi, it's Armin! I can't answer right now, but feel free to leave a message! I'd much appreciate it._ " When he heard the beep, Eren proceeded to leave a slightly panicky message. It was when he finished and hit send, that was when his fear started to die down a bit.

He wanted to send another, but Mikasa said to him to let her do it later. He would have to take her word for it; chances were that Armin wouldn't appreciate the constant messages if he got to check them anyway. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter chapter than usual because I don't know

An uncomfortable surprise was in store for Armin after he left the hospital; part of that discomfort was from trying to juggle his phone and the rest of his things. The rest was from seeing three missed calls from Eren, and a text from Mikasa. Now he was worried that something had to have happened; he was starting to wish he hadn't declined the first two.

"Hello-" 

"Armin!" Eren's voice was a bit panicky when he answered. "Armin where are you?! Were you kidnapped?! Tell me where you are!" He almost didn't let Armin get a word in edgewise. Armin had to actually tell him to stop forcefully, before he could properly explain. 

"I'm all right, Eren. I was just at the hospital. You remember that comatose young man you were sharing a room with...?" He didn't expect Eren to understand what exactly he'd been doing, mainly because he didn't know how to put it into words. 

...

Once Jean's mother came home with Marco, she immediately padded off to the kitchen to start dinner. This left Marco in the living room, parked in front of the table he did puzzles, crosswords, and any other activities he could occupy himself with. 

"You remembered to give that Armin boy our address, right?" Jean's mother asked of him from the kitchen. "Just in case he needs something or wants to come visit us?" Marco let out a sound that indicated he had done so. He remembered to do that before Armin left the hospital that day. 

"All he has to do is call one of us, right?" He asked, stating the obvious while he looked for one of his puzzles. Miss Kirstein poked her head out of the kitchen doorway to look at him, confirming what he should've known already. 

It could only take a quick glance of Marco to cause heartache in her. The young man looked so pitiful, as he started putting together a hundred piece puzzle she'd gotten him a while back. All the things she'd ever knit for him were currently being worn (which made sense, given that it was the middle of winter outside). As a result, he looked like he could pass for an old woman if looked at a certain angle. 

When Jean's mother invited Marco to live with her a year ago, he was very happy to oblige. He needed _someone_ to take care of him, given his recently acquired paraplegic and partial blind condition. He couldn't exactly go out to get the mail if he couldn't walk to or see the mailbox. 

There was also the matter of Marco's past relationship with Jean. That was something of a factor for her as well. 

...

That night, once he'd managed to tell Eren why he was still at the hospital, Armin was finally in bed. He could still hear the other two through the wall, discussing whether visiting a complete stranger was really at all a good idea.

So far, it sounded like their combined answer was 'no'. That alone made his heart break just a little bit. He understood it, though. 

Trying to ignore it, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

Perhaps he could phone Marco and Miss Kirstein tomorrow, and ask for more information about Jean. Knowing who exactly he was before the accident might be a good idea. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy whatever the fuck it is you celebrate

_That night, Armin had a most peculiar dream._

_It started off with him in the passenger's seat of a car; specifically, a '02 Grand Prix model. That wasn't the weirdest part, though. He just didn't quite know **how** weird it was all going to be. But he would in a few short moments. When that time passed, he could hear someone talking to him. _

_"You know I still love you, right?" It was a voice that Armin didn't recognize. Try as he might, however, he couldn't turn his head (or even move his eyes) to see who it was. He also couldn't stop himself from uttering a quiet "Yes", which was followed up by an equally saddening "I know you do."_

_But that wasn't his own voice. **None** of this was familiar to him at all. _

_It was then quiet for a while, the only sounds being the car running, and rain hitting the windshield. Even from inside the car, Armin could feel the bitter cold emanating from the rain; the shivering was intense. Whoever this was, he really needed to learn what long sleeves were._

_He then bent over, trying to warm himself up. That was when Armin was able to see into the side view mirror; although his appearance differed somewhat, it was clear that he was Marco. Or rather, he was in Marco's body. For now, Marco had both his eyes, and presumably his legs still worked._

_Marco kept talking, against any wishes that Armin may have had. "But loving me and being in love with me can be two very different things. I guess I didn't know that; I thought being friends our whole lives meant we'd be a happy couple, but-"_

_He didn't get to finish, on account of a sudden, loud drone noise. When Marco turned to see what cut him off, Armin ended up seeing Jean, pressing his forehead against the car horn. Jean lifted his head up, only to quickly bring it back down and start honking the horn again._

_"Jean, stop that." Thankfully, Jean pulled his head back up and didn't slam it down again._

_"Why couldn't you have figured that out **before** I got you the ring and private wedding?! Did you just want to see me make an ass of myself or something?! Thought maybe it'd be funny, to get a sick laugh out of all this?!" _

_"No! I just-"_

_As the two went back and forth, Armin could hear the sound of another vehicle rapidly coming from another direction. The problem was that he didn't know precisely which direction. He, at least, knew it was coming; Jean and Marco were still completely oblivious to it._

_Jean was taking his turn now to speak, accusing Marco of never actually being his friend, and just being a mooch. No doubt that hearing this devastated Marco, who made a choked gasp. Armin could then feel Marco's eyesight get all blurry from tears. But Jean didn't seem to care; he was letting out quite a bit of bottled up emotions._

_He did seem to have a look of shock on his face when Marco screamed out his name, right as the oncoming car T-boned them._

_..._

Armin jolted awake in a sweat, right as the car hit them. Now, instead of being in a car, he was back in his own room. A quick once-over showed that he was also back in his own body. Unable to properly comprehend what he saw, he got up and padded to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. 

"Ring...? Private wedding...?" He whispered to himself. This brought a whole new layer of questions he wanted to ask next time he saw the other two. When Armin felt calm enough to walk back to his room, he searched through his mess of a room, and found another book he could read to Jean next visit. 

When it was in hand, he began to flip through the pages, making sure all of them were there (and not ripped out from Armin accidentally stepping on them). As he did, he started to think about just how much anguish Marco had to have been going through. Hearing Jean's last words before the accident couldn't have been easy. 

Now Armin wondered if Jean had always been like that, spewing awful things in times of extreme emotion. Surely, Marco had a few choice words to say to him, should Jean ever wake up. Armin didn't think it was a good idea to bring it willy-nilly, though. Saying 'I had a dream about it' wouldn't fly, either. 

Maybe when the time felt right, whenever that would be; he would ask then. 


	6. Chapter 6

Normally Marco had no problem getting out of bed into his wheelchair. He did at first, but with some practice and a little help from Jean's mother, he could manage. Today, however, seemed to have been an exception for him.

No matter how many times he tried to pull himself up off the floor, it was simply impossible. Continuing to try and get into his wheelchair just ended with said wheelchair falling on top of him. When that happened, he just sighed in defeat and called for Miss Kirstein. 

When she arrived (in her garish orange bathrobe for some reason), she gasped at seeing him in such a distressing position. After that, she didn't hesitate to lift both him and his wheelchair. He tried not to look too embarrassed when she wheeled him to his table. 

This was one of the many times he wished it was him comatose in the hospital, and not Jean. But he didn't dare tell Jean's mother that. 

...

Later that day, Armin was already packed up and on his way to the hospital. He had another book of fairy tales, and some money in case he wanted to get something from the vending machine. Just like last time, he tried to simmer down on the excitement; normal people didn't get too hopped up to read to a comatose person. 

Normal people also usually didn't get permission to see a comatose person they didn't personally know; Doctor Hanji was taking something of a great risk just for Armin. At least he wasn't staying at home all the time, frittering away his time with nothing but watching TV. 

It seemed that Eren developed a fondness for James Bond movies (no matter how cheesy or campy they were) while in the hospital. Armin was afraid he'd even forget there were other things to watch on TV (or that he'd try and seek out all known movies on DVD). Hopefully Mikasa could help him with that. 

Once Armin got to the hospital and checked in, he was surprised that Marco and Miss Kirstein hadn't arrived yet. It didn't seem right to start without them, so he just took a seat at Jean's bedside. 

"Hi there." His voice sounded a bit choked up, for some reason. "It's just me right now. Uh...I'm trying very hard to think of anything to talk about. I don't really know what it is you liked back when you were conscious. Um...So you're Marco's best friend? And also his..."

Armin paused. He didn't think bringing up his bizarre dream would be a good idea; if Jean could hear him, he'd probably think he was creepy. Therefore, Armin simply let himself be distracted by the sounds of all the machines Jean was hooked up to. Then _that_ got uncomfortable, so he tried talking again. 

"I wonder what's keeping Marco and your mother. Maybe they're stuck in traffic? Or they overslept?" He looked over his shoulder just to be sure. "I hope none of the nurses here report me for not being next of kin or something. That would be really awkward to explain." The next thing he said was something he didn't actually expect to say out loud, even to Jean:

"...I think you're really handsome." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Armin clapped a hand over it. His face was red as a beet, and he _really_ hoped the other two wouldn't come in at that moment. Looking over again, he calmed down considerably. 

Right as he turned back again, though, he heard the sound of feet and wheels approaching. Now he _really_ hoped they didn't hear him. 

...

"Hopefully we're not late for story time?" Jean's mother asked in a slightly chipper tone. "Things came up, which is why it was taking so long for us to get here. We're really sorry about that." Marco said nothing, but nodded in agreement. 

Armin shook his head as he flipped his book to the story he'd chosen for the day. "Just waiting for you guys." Once Armin began reading yet another of his many Grimm's fairy tales (He chose Iron Hans, since he didn't want to choose all popular tales), time seemed to slow to a crawl, as if time itself wished to hear him read. 

Like any other interested person, Marco listened intently while resting his hand atop Jean's, squeezing it on and off. Miss Kirstein, on the other hand, carefully smoothed back her son's hair. The both of them were so invested in the story, nothing else seemed to faze them. 

At least until Marco squeezed Jean's hand a bit too roughly. The result had been a bit quiet, almost too quiet for the other three to have noticed. Armin stopped reading for a moment, having heard it too over his reciting, and over the sounds of the machines. The three of them looked about the room, wondering what could've made that noise. 

They heard it again, slightly louder this time. Now, they found the source of it in Jean's room. 

It was Jean himself. 


	7. Chapter 7

Armin dropped his book as he watched Marco and Miss Kirstein trying to get Jean to make any kind of noise. 

"Jean?! Oh, Jean-Jean, are you waking up?!"

"Come on, Jean! Do it again! Make that noise again!" 

Seeing and hearing them both pleading with Jean caused Armin's heart to start aching. To try and help them, he rang for Doctor Hanji. Then he ran out of the room, in the hopes that Hanji could be of better help than he could. It wasn't until he got halfway back to the house before he realized how incredibly stupid that was. 

...

If she hadn't seen it for herself, Doctor Hanji would've never believed the other two about what was happening. But the proof was right there before her; her patient Jean was showing signs of consciousness. It wasn't anything really major, it was mostly groaning and slight twitching fingers, but it still got the other two excited all the same. 

"Jean! _Jean_!" Marco had to make certain that he didn't fall out of his wheelchair. "Can you hear me?! It's Marco!" In a similar mindset, Jean's mother was trying to coax any other signs of life from her son. 

"Can you hear me, Jean?! Can you hear your mother, sweetie?!" His twitching and groaning remained more or less consistent, until Hanji reached over and pinched one of his nails. By involuntary reflex, Jean drew his hand away. Then, all three of them noticed that one of his eyes had managed to open just a little bit. 

Jean tried to say something again, but it all came out as incomprehensible moaning. More specifically, it came out sounding like a hissing sound. Despite the immense difficulty in moving at all, he managed to open his other eye a crack as well. These small actions were enough for Marco and his mother. 

...

The next morning, Armin was hiding under his bedsheets, out of embarrassment over what he did yesterday. He had no doubt in his mind that Miss Kirstein and Marco thought he was some sort of coward now. Armin didn't even come to breakfast earlier, before Eren and Mikasa left for work. No matter how much they begged him to join them, he had refused. 

What made things worse was that he remembered that he dropped his book of fairy tales when he left Jean's hospital room. Part of him wanted to go back and get it. Another part told him not to bother; he could just order another one anyway. 

He only got out when he heard knocking at the front door. Despite being embarrassed, Armin went to go answer. Then he was flat-out humiliated when he saw it was Jean's mother. If she hadn't started talking, he would have started bawling. 

"Oh good! You _are_ home. Marco and I tried to call you last night but you didn't pick up." Armin opened the door wider and let her in. As she came into the house, Jean's mother pulled out a slightly scuffed up but familiar book. She didn't seem to notice Armin's distressing state as she handed it to her. 

"As much as the boys and I love these stories, it just wouldn't be right to keep something that doesn't belong to us." 

With trembling hands, Armin took it from her and flipped through all of it. As he did, he noticed some of the pages had cut-up Post-it notes on them.

"Huh...?" He looked up at her for answers. 

Miss Kirstein just smiled. "Marco and I wanted you to know which stories were our favorites. We didn't want to write in it without your permission, though." Both were quiet for a moment, before she changed the subject. "...You know, he started asking for you when he was able to start forming words." 

Armin raised an eyebrow. "Wha-"

"We didn't know what he was trying to say at first. It sounded like he wanted to say 'Don't worry' or some kind of delayed reaction from the crash. " 

"But you and Marco found out eventually what he was trying to say?"

Jean's mother nodded. "He was asking us 'Where is he?'. We guessed he was referring to you."

Armin found himself blushing. Whether it was from more embarrassment, or something related to Jean, he couldn't really say for sure. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Now that all misunderstandings and awkwardness had been explained, Armin was all too eager to return to the hospital, and see Jean. He almost couldn't contain his excitement at finally getting to properly meet him. Jean's mother seemed to catch note of it; at least that seemed to be the reason she was going a little quicker than she should've. 

"Now, I will let you know," she said to Armin as they pulled into the parking lot. "He's still pretty disoriented, so don't worry if you can't understand what he's trying to say."

Armin just nodded. He almost got out before the car stopped in a parking space. Then it was a matter of him running (actually _running_ ) into the hospital and making a beeline for Jean's room. Hopefully Miss Kirstein would check him in at the receptionist desk for him. 

...

"He'll be here before long, Jean, I'm sure of it." Despite no longer being romantically involved, Marco held Jean's hand while smoothing through his hair. Jean didn't really seem to notice him doing that, however; his sights were instead focused squarely on the door to his room. 

Jean was still trying to make sense of what his mother, Marco, and Doctor Hanji had told him. He knew that he'd sustained some damage from the crash, but not to the point of falling into a coma. He actually didn't really believe any of them at first when they told him that. 

He believed it for sure when he saw he was in a hospital bed, with all those machines hooked up to him, though. Then he was more willing to listen to them. 

Another thing that Jean noticed was that he remembered there should've been someone else there. Lately there'd been another voice he'd been hearing. He hadn't the faintest clue who it could be, but he knew for sure it wasn't Doctor Hanji. It was much too soft and lyrical to belong to her. Perhaps if it were reading to him _Allerleirauh_ , it'd be easier to envision who had it.  

Just as Marco said, however, he was about to find out. 

...

Now that Armin had actually arrived, his excitement had vanished and had been replaced with nervousness. Even so, he kept walking towards the other two. All he could really hope for was that he didn't accidentally soil himself in the few steps that it'd take to reach Jean's bedside. 

"Don't worry, Armin," Marco said to him with a grin. "He doesn't bite...much." Jean slowly glanced up at him, hesitating a bit more before sticking his tongue out in a playfully offended manner. 

One thing that Armin noticed right away was that Jean's breathing mask had been replaced with a much less obstructive nasal cannula; presumably that was so he could be understood better when he talked. A few of the other machines were gone too; all that Jean really was left with was a catheter and aforementioned cannula. 

"I'll leave you two alone," Marco said to the both of them. He then let go of Jean's hand, and wheeled himself out of the room. Once he was gone, Armin and Jean stared directly at one another. Then, Armin slowly made the short distance to be at Jean's bedside, before sitting down next to him. 

He waited a little before saying something, which was nothing more than a quiet "hi". In turn, Jean took a few moments before smiling, and choking out "Hey there" with slight effort. Then he forced himself to keep talking, with some pauses here and there: 

"I thought the person reading to me would be good-looking." He held open the hand closest to Armin, who took it. "I was wrong; you're even better looking than I thought." To this, Armin blushed, which made Jean's smile look a touch devious looking. He knew full well that what he said would cause that reaction. 

As the both of them exchanged words and teasing, Marco watched from behind the doorway, that grin from earlier still on his face. 


	9. Chapter 9

"I gotta ask," Jean said to Marco and his mother the next day, "whatever happened to the guy who slammed into us?"

One thing that everyone was grateful for (and amazed by) in this situation was that Jean's memory loss, if any, had been minimal. Had they not known or seen it for themselves, they'd assume he'd never been in a coma for the last year, or at all. Their expressions and the way they went quiet told him all he needed to know about the other driver, though. 

"Oh, so he ended up-" 

"Dead at the scene," Marco clarified for him.

"Him and a couple of his friends," Miss Kirstein added on. "It was...really heartbreaking to have to tell his mother that he was dead. That poor woman..."

Armin merely sat and listened, hearing the names of people he'd never met, and never would meet. He felt kind of awkward, being there and more or less forgotten in favor of reminiscing about past events. Thankfully, it wasn't going to be like that for too much longer. 

"Oh, and look at Armin over there," Jean's mother said when she remembered his presence, "listening to us prattle on about things he isn't part of." Then she addressed Armin directly. "I hope we're not boring you, are we?"

He shook his head. "It's fine. Lately Eren's James Bond obsession has been keeping me up at night. I'm pretty sure he's watched every single film in order at least three times since he got home. So it's a good change from hearing him sobbing at the end of _Skyfall_. Even our friend Mikasa is trying to get him to do something else."

"He had the volume up too damn high when he was here," Jean cut in now. "Pissed me off when I could hear it, but couldn't tell the jackass to turn it down." To emphasize this, he stuck a finger into his ear and twisted it around. As he did, his mother grimaced at his use of foul language, as well as the other two. 

Trying to ignore it, Armin pulled out one of his other collections of fairy tales, and started reading _The Nightingale_ out loud to them. 

...

Later that night, Marco and Miss Kirstein had gone home about a half hour before visiting hours ended. According to Marco, they wanted to make sure that the house was just as Jean had remembered it before the crash. Jean didn't really care either way; as long as he still had the room he and Marco shared in good condition. 

That other request caused a sort of twinge of what Armin really hoped was not jealousy. He didn't even know what precisely he would be getting jealous about; Marco was Jean's _ex_ -husband, after all. It wasn't as though they'd still been sleeping together before the crash. He decided not to ask Jean if they had been, though. Not directly, anyway. 

"So..." He tried to figure out the least awkward way to ask. "You and Marco were married at some point?" 

Jean nodded. "He and I have been best friends since preschool. We figured maybe we were in love because of all that, but...eh. Turns out that wasn't the case. The divorce almost ruined our friendship. And trust me, that wasn't something I wanted to have wrecked. Looks like the car ended up that way instead."

Here Armin considered telling Jean that he didn't think dark jokes like that were very funny. Perhaps he'd tell him if he tried to make another one of a similar level of tastelessness. For now, he'd just listen to Jean's attempt to laugh without causing himself to cough so badly. 

Then came the voice over the intercom that visiting hours were now over, to both of their disappointment. With much reluctance, Armin stood up to go. Before he could go any further, though, Jean took a hold of his hand. 

"Hey, uh..." He tried to think of a good way to get his request across. "After I get out of this place, you uh..." Here he paused to cough and clear his throat. "As cliche as it sounds, you...wanna go out for coffee sometime?" 

His request brought a slight blush to Armin's cheeks. He then gave a gentle smile, and nodded.

"I'd like that," was his proper answer. He then left the room, giving a gentle wave to Jean as he did.


	10. Chapter 10

Now that Jean was finally home again (after he'd been checked out, deemed in good enough health, and discharged) a few days later, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that he didn't belong there anymore.

Granted, he'd not been in his room in over a year, but in that year, it seemed like it turned into Marco's room. Most of his stuff was in the same place, but those were Marco's clothes on the floor. It was Marco's prescription painkillers strewn about on the nightstand. It was Marco who was sleeping in Jean's bed covered in quilts and blankets (he got cold surprisingly easily). 

For now, until they could all figure out what to do about new sleeping arrangements, Jean had to sleep on a portable fold out bed. It made him feel like a stranger in his own house. On the plus side, at least now Armin didn't have to visit him in the hospital anymore. Now he could come visit him at his house, like most people would. 

Armin. The very act of even thinking his name got Jean to blush a little. It also got his heart to beat rapidly. Chances were that maybe he wasn't feeling as well as he thought. Or, it might've been something else entirely that was causing this. It would explain the sudden request to go out sometime. 

And the request after that to go out to a movie on an evening sometime after. 

...

Armin had begun to look forward to meeting Jean and reading to him. Since no one really expected Jean to wake up at the time he did, now Armin's schedule was all messed up.

He supposed he could start reading to the other patients at the hospital, but that idea didn't really appeal to him. For now, he was on his way to the Kirstein/Bodt residence, ready to go on his agreed upon next date with Jean. He couldn't keep himself from smiling as he knocked on the door. 

"Just a second!" Came Marco's voice from inside the house. As he waited, Armin looked around the premises. 

"I can tell this place is rather wheelchair accessible," he murmured as he gazed upon a nearby ramp, and the larger door he'd knocked on. There were also railings to hold on to; it was perfect for someone who only had one eye and was dead from the waist down. Jean's mother quite clearly cared about those she lived with. 

...

Marco finally did come to the door, after some effort in reaching it and actually pushing it open. He beamed when he saw who was standing there. 

"Armin, hi!" He said to him as he rolled back and made room. "Come on in, Jean's in his room getting ready." Being the respectable guest, Armin stepped inside and took note of the living room. What he expected and what he saw ended up being two extremely different things. 

The room was messy, as in actually messy. Dirty clothes sat in a pile up against one of the walls. Next to those were a rumpled pile of blankets, which had a smell that Armin didn't really want to know the source of. A table stood nearby with numerous puzzles and crosswords on it. 

The wall opposite him, fortunately enough, looked to be clean enough. It had various knick knacks and trinkets strewn about on a shelf; all of them were extremely cutesy and cheesy (probably belonged to Jean's mother). In the middle of all of them stood a picture he couldn't get a good enough view of from his current spot. 

Armin took inventory of his surroundings again. Marco wasn't there; he probably went to go check on Jean. Hopefully he wouldn't mind if Armin took a closer look. Reaching up on his tiptoes (it was fairly high up), Armin pulled it off the shelf to look at it better. 

The photo depicted Jean and Marco, the latter kissing the former on the cheek. Both were also giving each other rabbit ears, and looked very happy. Going by how the two of them were dressed quite formally, Armin presumed that this was a picture of their wedding day. 

"Quite a looker, isn't he?" Armin nearly dropped the picture frame when he heard Marco's voice right behind him. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." 

Armin merely nodded. "He does look very handsome." Then he addressed the elephant in the room. "So...the two of you were married at some point?" 

Now Marco nodded. "It started out wonderful, and then, at some point, I guess he and I..." He paused here and frowned, as if talking about it actually physically hurt. "We drifted apart, really. In our case, being married to your best friend hadn't been a good idea. Too much pressure, I suppose."

Both of them were quiet now, at least until Jean came out of his room. Nothing more was said when Jean and Armin left for their movie. They did at least wave to Marco as they were going out the door, a gesture that he gladly returned. Once they were gone and on their way to the theater, Marco put his hand down back into his lap.

Along with his hand, his smile dropped as well. How he managed to get through all of that without breaking down into tears was a mystery to him.


	11. Chapter 11

"So what's it like living with your ex-husband?" The question had just tumbled out of Armin's mouth, completely unbidden, as the two were on their way to the movie theater. It didn't really occur to him that Jean might not want to talk about all that right now. Not that he could take it back, though. 

Luckily for him, Jean was willing to give him an answer. "Not much different than before we'd gotten married. Only real difference was that we started sharing a bed. That, and the two of us, uh..." 

"Started getting more physical?" Armin knew that Jean didn't need to clarify there. 

Jean nodded, with a slight blush to his face. "I don't know any other polite way to describe 'best friend riding your dick while he's moaning like hell'." The both of them left it at that uncomfortable point for a while, merely admiring the scenery about them as they went on walking. 

"Is, um..." Armin struggled to find the right words, for some reason. "What's it like having lost a whole year of your life?" Jean didn't give him an answer right away, aside from a kind of half shrug. 

"Looks like I didn't miss a whole lot, personally. Well, besides seeing that Marco's still living with my mom. I thought he'd move in with someone else after..." 

Now Jean looked away. "...It's a long story, and something happened near the end that I'm not too proud of. Well, by that, I mean that right before the crash, something got me upset. Problem is, I don't remember what that was."Armin had considered telling him about that one strange dream he had, but he decided against it.

Instead, he tried to pass it off simply as an educated yet random guess. "Maybe the last thing you guys talked about was your marriage?" 

"That could be." 

...

After the two had gotten their freakishly overpriced drinks and popcorn, Jean and Armin were about to go and find their seats. Right before they did, however, Armin heard his phone beginning to ring. He started to trail behind Jean as he answered it, with Jean looking for a spot for the both of them. 

"Hello-" 

"Where are you?" Mikasa's question was a bit terse, but also fearful. "Eren and I are worried sick! We've been looking all over town to find you." Armin was a little baffled, considering that he did tell Eren and Mikasa where he was going to be. He even put a note on the kitchen table for them before he left. 

"Um...I'm at the movies. With that one man Eren shared a hospital room with a while back? His name's Jean, in case I didn't tell you already." He didn't like where all of this was headed. "I'm fine, Mikasa. He and I were just going to see a movie, that's it. I'll talk to you guys when I get home." 

Hanging up, Armin sighed and turned his phone off. He looked to Jean and tried not to look annoyed.

"I'm sorry about that," he whispered as the two finally sat somewhere in the back. "They tend to get very protective of me. So, when you bring me home tonight, well...don't be surprised if one of them throws a sharp object at you."

"Noted." The two sat back and watched as the lights dimmed, signaling the start of the movie. 

...

If there was one thing that Marco wouldn't change about the Kirstein residence, it was the fact that it had a computer room of sorts. There wasn't much to it, really; it was mostly just a repurposed walk in pantry with a few bookshelves put in. Still, he liked the homey feeling and the older computer monitor gave off a certain charm. 

That was where he ended up, late at night. Jean's mother had gone off to bed, and Jean himself was still out with Armin. It meant he had time for himself, at least. Said time was being spent sitting in the dark, going through some online marketplaces for the best place to sell something. 

Marco was trying to keep himself awake, so that he could ask Jean how it went. So far, it was barely working. He also had another reason for doing it; it sat in its original small box next to the computer tower, as polished and shiny as the day Jean had given it to him. From the looks of things, though, he'd probably end up heading off to bed in a few minutes anyway. 

Once his remaining eye was burning with tiredness, Marco decided to call it a night. Turning off the computer, he took hold of the ring box and set it into his lap. He made sure it stayed there as he wheeled back into his (or really Jean's) room. Marco looked it over as he then set it into a nearby drawer. He covered it up with random items before closing the drawer. 

"I was there the first time you said 'I do'," he whispered. "If he's the one, then...

"I want to be there when you say it again." 


	12. Chapter 12

The movie itself had been relatively awful. In fact, Jean and Armin spent most of it snarking about it, rather than actually watching it. It was that bad. At the least, they got their money refunded (everyone else in the audience hated it too) and a free bucket of popcorn to go along with it. 

"So..." Armin tried saying when the two of them left the theater. "That was something." 

"If I didn't know any better," Jean said before Armin could go further. "I'd assume movies took a hell of a dip in quality, in the year I was asleep."

After that, they didn't say too much the rest of the way back. They started up again when the two of them stood in front of Armin's house. 

"I hope that movie wasn't bad enough that you've decided not to hang out with me anymore," Jean mentioned as he scratched the back of his head. 

But Armin just waved his concerns off. "Not by a long shot. I wouldn't mind seeing it again, actually. Well, if you watched it with me, that is." This got Jean to blush.

"Oh, well yeah." He also checked to make sure Armin's friends weren't around. "So, anyway, I don't think you're the type to kiss on the first date, so..." He hesitated, before then opening his arms. "Hug?" Armin smiled and nodded. He gladly stepped forward and circled his arms around Jean. Jean, in turn, did the same. 

He even made sure to get a bit of a squeeze in before they parted. 

"Best you get going now," Armin said to him as he lay a hand on the doorknob. "Or else one of them is going to see you and-" He was interrupted by the sound of a sudden, elongated shriek. This was followed by rapid footsteps. Quickly, Jean waved bye to Armin and dashed off towards his own house. 

When Jean did get home, it was to a dark living room. He was about to call out to see if either of the other two were awake, before he saw Marco on the living room couch (he'd changed his mind about going to sleep in the bedroom). The way he somehow curled himself up to go to sleep was admittedly a little endearing. 

"I guess he tried staying up to wait for me, but couldn't quite manage it," Jean whispered to himself. With a grin, he picked Marco up in his arms and carried him to their shared bedroom. 

...

The next morning, Marco found himself in bed, rather than the last place he'd gotten himself onto when he fell asleep. Down the hall, in the kitchen, Jean was talking with his mother about last night with Armin. From the sound of things, he must've had a pretty good time. In the hopes of listening in better, Marco pulled himself over to his wheelchair and got in. 

"...But I'm worried Marco might not like that." Hearing Jean suddenly say this got Marco to stop where he was. "Since, well, ex-husband and stuff." Then came some muffled speech, followed by his mother telling him not to talk with his mouth full. 

"Don't worry about Marco," Miss Kirstein said after telling him the preceding bit. "He's a grown man. And I'm sure that if something about all of this bothered him, he would tell us." As much as he didn't want to try and deal with it, Marco willed himself to keep moving. 

He did say good morning to the both of them as he got over to his table in the living room. 

...

When Miss Kirstein left for work about an hour later, Jean ended up laying on the couch next to Marco. The way he pulled out his phone and stared at the screen meant he was probably contemplating whether or not to call Armin. It was either that, or adhere to that stupid 'wait three days' rule. 

Now seemed like a good time to distract him. 

"Oh!" Marco said as he put down whatever it was he was doing. "I've been meaning to ask; how'd it go last night?" 

Jean didn't look away from his phone. "Pretty good, I think. I just hope that Armin thinks the same way enough to ask again." Marco tried to be satisfied with that, but he couldn't be. Waiting a few short moments, he kept it going. 

"If he does, then do you think, um..." He scratched the top of his head. "Maybe you could see yourself having a proper future with him?" This time, Jean did look up from his phone. He even put it away and sat up to talk with Marco better. 

"...I've only really known him for like, a few days, Marco. It's kind of early to be thinking about those kinds of plans. 

"What brought _this_ up anyway?" 

Looking like a child that got caught pulling a prank, Marco looked away. "I guess I just...I could call it curiosity, but that wouldn't be all of it." He wheeled himself away, unable to even face Jean right now. He bowed his head down, lifting up one of his hands toward his face. 

Jean stood up and approached him again, deeply concerned and worried. "Marco?" 

The sight of Marco looking up and crying out of his one eye startled Jean a little. Seeing his red face and runny nose got was actually a bit terrifying. Even then, Marco tried to compose himself enough to keep an even voice. 

"When you were in that coma," he began, "Your mother and I visited you every day, talking to you about anything we could think of. We..." He paused to wipe his nose with his sleeve. "We hoped that somehow you'd be able to hear either of us. She and I did that for a whole _year_ , Jean. You never showed any sign of waking up.

"Armin, though...He shows up one day, reads a few fairy tales, and suddenly you're conscious again! I don't know whether or not it was coincidence, and I don't want to risk it not being that." 

Jean opened his mouth to try and speak. "Marco-" 

"No, Jean." Marco cut him off. "Please listen to me. I'm saying this as both your former husband and your best friend; if you think he's the one, go after him. If it turns out he isn't, I just hope you'll know it before disaster strikes. Otherwise..." Again, Marco paused. This time, it was to point at his empty eye socket.

"This might happen again." He lowered his hand and tucked it into his lap. "But the only way you'll know for certain is if you spend time with him. Can you do that?" He started up crying again. "Can you do that for me, Jean?" 

Now Jean truly was speechless. No doubt it took a lot for Marco to say any of this, let alone all of it. Instead of giving a verbal answer, however, he got to his knees and encircled Marco in a tight hug. He could feel tears prickling through his own eye ducts, before they slipped out and down his cheeks. 

"I can." 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly have no idea how else to advance with this so I'm just gonna end it here
> 
> So I don't know have some very rushed fluff or something

Jean had only just gotten back onto his feet when his phone rang. He cringed a little bit, hoping Marco wouldn't take offense to it.

"M'yello." He glanced over and mouthed "It's Armin" to Marco. This, in turn, got Marco to smile a bit. "Hey, Armin! Nah, you're not interrupting anything, I was just talking with Marco." He walked off into the kitchen. "Didn't expect you to call so soon. What's up?" 

As he chatted, Marco listened in on his side of the conversation. It warmed his heart to see Jean so happy and talkative. While he waited, though, an unusual thought appeared inside his head. When it did, he wheeled himself over and tried to get Jean's attention again. 

"Could I speak with him really quick?" He asked while pointing at the phone. Jean waited until Armin was done saying his piece, then took his turn to say something. 

"Oh, hang on, Armin. Marco wants to talk to you." He then handed the phone over, and took his turn listening in on Marco's plans. 

...

The next day, the three of them were out enjoying the sunshine, as they made their way to their destination. 

Jean was probably as surprised as Armin was when Marco requested that they bring him to the cemetery. Something about 'unfinished business'; he didn't elaborate any further on that. When he said 'cemetery', however, Jean then began to have some kind of idea as to what his plans were. 

"This way," Marco told Armin when they arrived, pointing in the direction he wanted him to go. "I think they're buried somewhere in the back." Jean tried to keep up, keeping a firm hold on the bouquets of flowers they'd gotten beforehand. Once they reached the area, all of them stopped for a moment to read the names on the headstones: 

_Reiner Braun_

_Bertholdt Hoover_

_Annie Leonhart_

In front of each headstone sat an urn, with a picture next to it to show what the ashes originally looked like as humans. The three of them stared, giving a moment of silence out of respect; it didn't matter that none of them really knew who these three were to them. It was just common courtesy, really. 

"I ended up going to the funeral and cremation, after I was released from the hospital," Marco's voice rasped out when they took long enough. "It just seemed...kind of wrong to me. The only way I knew the three of them was that they collided with the car Jean and I were in. And yet, there I was, at their wake; open casket, if you were wondering.

"They were...so pale," he went on. " _Too_ pale. Like they weren't human anymore. Not that it really mattered a few hours later; then they just became ashes. But to see them go into the incinerator, one by one...I could tell how devastating it was for everybody there."

As he talked, Marco's spirit seemed to temporarily leave him. His remaining eye was wide open, staring off into nothing. The color seemed to drain from his face, leaving him looking as pale as the corpses he'd been talking about. He then went quiet, like he'd forgotten what else to say. 

"Did anyone there know who you were?" Armin asked in a quiet voice. 

"If they did, they didn't say anything. None of them told me to leave, either, though. So...I honestly don't know for sure. But if they did, I bet they'd be asking the same thing I asked myself." He waited to see if they were going to say anything here. When they didn't, he kept going. 

"I kept asking myself, 'Why? Why am I here? Why was I the one who lived? Why wasn't I dead and burned alongside them?" His speech became increasingly morbid and cynical, concerning Jean and Armin greatly. "Why did I survive? Why did I _have_ to survive? It just kept eating at me then, and it still does."

He looked over his shoulder at them, and tried to smile. "Sorry...didn't mean to get super dark there. How about we put these flowers on their graves and then head off? I hear it might rain later." Putting the flowers down was exactly what the trio did.

Thankfully, the way back was much more cheerful. Marco talked with Armin and asked if either he or Jean had plans after this. He didn't miss the way Jean's arm was interwoven with Armin's. 

He certainly didn't miss their wedding a year and a half later. It would've been a little hard to miss that, being that he was Jean's best man for it. 

After that, he was there for all the times that Armin read more fairy tales to all of them (no sense in breaking a liked tradition). Hopefully this time, Jean and Armin's own fairy tale didn't end in a terrible manner. The happy endings (even from a few of the really fucked up stories) usually ended with a wedding, anyway. 


End file.
